


Next to You

by rebeccaofsbfarm



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Songfic, another post 3x18 fic, because we need more, but also a little angsty, my challenge to myself was soft, so hopefully this is soft like a baby cloud
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-24
Updated: 2020-05-24
Packaged: 2021-03-03 09:07:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24348496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rebeccaofsbfarm/pseuds/rebeccaofsbfarm
Summary: Wait.Didn't mean to say it like that.Stay, a little longer please. I sleep a little deeper when you're next to me.
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley & Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV), Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV)
Comments: 21
Kudos: 406





	Next to You

**Author's Note:**

> Hello. This is inspired by the song Next to You by Little Big Town and idk if I did it justice but I love it. When I heard it, I knew I wanted to write something _soft_ and I hope I accomplished that here.
> 
> Idk I've been writing and rewriting it for days, so tell me how I did.

“It’s been a long shift guys. Go home, get some sleep,” Bobby calls out as they pull back into the station, and his body sags, visibly as exhausted as the rest of them. He looks ready to fall into bed with Athena and never get up. Buck understands the feeling. His muscles are sore, and his nerves are shot. The train crash alone would have made for a hard day. Big crashes like that are always demanding, and the casualties made it emotionally draining, climbing over bodies to reach those they could save.

When they’d first arrived at the scene, Buck had giving himself into the adrenaline surging through his veins, ready to tackle the whole operation single-handed. But before he could reach the wreckage, he was distracted, saw someone arguing with Eddie out of the corner of his eye, wanted to back him up as he always did. He got closer, ready to jump to Eddie’s defense, but instead he found himself paralyzed in the debris, a ghost in the chaos looking back at him.

Eddie saw him, sensed that he was unsteady, but Buck summoned every ounce of adrenaline left to stay standing. He tuned out his own baggage and presumptions, and listened as Abby pleaded for them to find Sam. And because it was Abby, he promised her that he would.

Because that was Buck. Putting others ahead of himself, even if it meant disobeying orders and risking his life. And Abby _knew_ that, knew what she was asking of him, which is why there was pity in her eyes as he set off to climb into the wreckage, with Eddie stiff with concern at his side.

But he’d done it. He’d pissed off Bobby, and based on the set of his jaw, Eddie too, but he had put Sam in an ambulance with Abby and he was _safe_.

He wants so much to crumple into his bed after a long shower and sleep through until the next afternoon. His body sags with the effort of remaining upright. He doesn’t even stop to change, just grabs his stuff and heads for home.

“Buck, _wait_ ,” he hears as he makes it to the parking lot, and Eddie is standing there, out of breath from trying to catch up to him. “Hey, are you okay?”

Eddie reaches out, and Buck flinches because it’s too much. His emotions are worn thin, like his muscle is exposed beneath his skin, and Eddie of all people wants to reach out and touch his fingertips there, where he is most vulnerable. He sees the hurt, as Eddie pulls away, and he sighs.

“I didn’t mean…” he tries to explain but his voice is clipped. He rubs his brow, trying to find the words.

“It’s okay,” Eddie says quietly, shifting his bag to his other shoulder, “I can call you tomorrow to check in if you’re not up to it right now.”

Eddie steps away, about to head to his truck, but Buck’s hand reaches out to stop him, holding him by the wrist. He still can’t look up, his eyes still hidden behind his hand, but his thumb strokes the soft underside of Eddie’s arm. Eddie waits, lets him breathe for a moment, and then pulls him into an embrace. The strength of his arms is calming, and Buck knows that if he fell apart right here, Eddie would keep him standing.

“I’m sorry,” he says flatly, too exhausted to waste valuable effort on sounding _alright_ , when he knows Eddie can see through it. “It has been the _longest_ day.”

“Follow me home?” Eddie asks, and the plans for his own shower and his own bed evaporate into nothing, replaced by thoughts of Eddie’s arms wrapped tight around him. “I let Abuela know about the crash so she’s going to keep Christopher overnight. Keep me company?”

Buck knows he could never say no to an offer like that, so he nods before unspooling from Eddie’s arms to get in his Jeep. He takes a rattled moment at the steering wheel to get his bearings, and then he starts to drive, following Eddie’s taillights all the way to his house.

When he makes it in the front door, Eddie is dropping his bag in the entryway, stripping off his shirt, and Buck watches him, waiting for him to notice.

Eddie looks up, his hands at his belt buckle, and sees Buck watching him for the first time. He smiles a slow, almost Texan smile, and then gestures down the hallway, “Do you want to shower?”

Under normal circumstances, Buck would tease him, then wander off to the guest bath. But Abby has a _fiancé_ and Buck wants to move on too, wants to allow himself to feel something like that again. And he knows, _knows_ where that path leads, and who it leads to. He’s been telling himself he needed closure or the right moment, but really, he just needs _courage_ , and tonight he’s too exhausted to work up the fear that usually stops him.

It takes two short strides to close the distance between them, and then he is easing a hand behind Eddie’s head, pulling him forward until their lips meet. Eddie stills against him, hands limp at his sides, but then they find Buck’s hips and he is pulling them together, as Buck deepens the kiss, his tongue sliding against the seam of Eddie’s lips before gaining entrance.

Buck can feel the frustration in Eddie’s fingertips as they press at his hips. He knows he is not forgiven for his earlier stunt, for nearly killing himself _again_ , but there is a gratefulness to the way that Eddie is kissing him, an awareness that this kiss is a gift, a chance to be better. Eddie pulls away, but his lips are kiss-swollen and there’s a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

“I’m going to ask you again,” Eddie repeats, punctuating the question with feather-light kisses along Buck’s jaw. “Do you want to shower?”

Buck is nodding, but Eddie doesn’t wait for an answer, just takes his hand and guides him to the bathroom. He starts the shower to let it warm, and Buck just stands, waiting. Eddie’s hands circle his waist, dragging his shirt out of his belt, and then dragging it over his head. Buck traces his fingers along Eddie’s abandoned belt, sliding it from the loops and pushing his pants down his hips until they fall to the floor.

Eddie smiles, reaching for Buck’s belt and tentatively undoes the buckle, sliding the leather out slowly. Buck finds that he is impatient, needs to feel the water on his back, so he stills Eddie’s hands, quickly undoes his pants and shoves them down with his briefs so they pool on the tile floor. Eddie sheds his, then they step into the shower.

Buck sinks into the heat, his shoulders releasing some of their tension, and then Eddie’s hands are there, his thumbs prodding at the knots in his shoulder blades. Buck’s head falls back, letting the water run down his neck and chest where the crud has gathered, and Eddie is kissing him gently in the crux of his shoulder.

He turns, guiding Eddie by the chin until they are kissing again, and Eddie’s fingers graze his ribs until Buck’s arms wrap around his shoulders, pulling him into another embrace, and he’s trembling with the relief of surviving this day. Eddie wraps his arms around his trunk and holds him there, letting him settle against him, carrying his weight.

“Shhh, Buck, I’m here,” he says, in a soothing tone that Buck is used to hearing him use with Christopher, and his fingertips are drawing circles on his back. “You can let it out. I’ve got you.”

“Fuck… _shit_ ,” Buck stutters, because vulnerability is _hard_ , and it’s especially hard when your first love shows up unexpectedly and without any sign of the apology you’d been searching for, you almost die _again_ , and your best friend is holding you in his arms and taking care of you, and it’s all just _a lot_.

“Here, let me get us washed up, just hold on,” Eddie says, and he’s gently rubbing the bar of soap over Buck’s skin, raising his arms to duck under them, before washing himself. He lathers the shampoo and works it through his hair and then through Buck’s curls, ducking under the showerhead to rinse out the suds. He guides Buck’s head under as well, and his head falls back, letting the water run down his face. Eddie leans in and kisses the base of his throat, and he feels like he can move again, the heat flowing through his veins to the tips of his fingers.

“You ready?” Eddie asks him, patiently. Buck can see his double-meaning, even in this state, and he nods in answer to both questions. Eddie steps out first, pulling two towels off the rung and handing one to Buck, who dries his hair first, then his body, before wrapping the towel around his waist.

He follows Eddie into his bedroom and takes the clothes he offers from a drawer, then sets them aside, walking over to Eddie’s hamper and grabbing his pajamas from the night before, pulling them on as Eddie watches him curiously. When he pulls the heather gray ARMY tee over his head, he can smell Eddie on it, and it appeases his need to stay wrapped in Eddie’s arms.

Eddie smiles warmly, one side of his mouth higher than the other, and Buck can see a flare of possession in his eyes, “You look good.”

“It still smells like you,” Buck explains with a shrug, figuring he should start with something honest if he’s about to expose parts of himself that he never planned on showing to anyone, even Eddie. “It’s reassuring.”

Eddie doesn’t judge, just squeezes his bicep as he brushes past him, headed for the kitchen, “You want a drink? Beer? Whiskey?”

“You got…tea?” Buck asks pitifully, before dropping onto the couch to await his return. After a few minutes, he hears the whistle of a kettle in the kitchen, and the tapping of a spoon against the side of a mug.

Eddie joins him on the couch, setting the mugs on the table. When Buck reaches out to take one, Eddie cautions him, “It’s hot, be careful.”

“Thank you,” Buck says, but he smiles against the rim of his mug. Eddie treats him like he’s fragile, and it strengthens his resolve. After all, he had just climbed through a suspended train car, then again up the side of the stainless-steel shell. If he could do all of that, he could certainly tell Eddie about Abby, about what she meant to him and the scars she’d left behind.

Eddie leans against the opposite arm of the couch, both hands wrapped around his mug as he blows steam from the top. His lips are pursed, and Buck remembers the feeling of them against his. It would be so easy to reach across the couch and kiss him, leave all this messy stuff for later. But Eddie senses what he’s thinking and folds his legs to create a barrier between them.

“I don’t know how to start,” Buck admits, taking a sip of his tea and rolling it around against his tongue. His hand taps nervously on his knee, and Eddie reaches out a hand to settle him. His fingers curl around Buck’s and he feels steady again. “There was a time once, where I thought she had saved me. I didn’t like the person I was, and she saw something _more_ in me.

“And I think I became reliant on that approval, the knowledge that I was _good_ in her eyes, when I don’t usually feel good,” Eddie opens his mouth to interrupt, but with a shake of his head Buck stops him. “So when she left, it felt like she could no longer see that. Like I wasn’t good enough, and I thought I was just back to my old self. The self that I didn’t like, and I didn’t believe others liked either.

“And I’ve worked on that since she left, I have. I help people, I know that, and not for attention or glory, but to fulfill that same desire, the desire to be better. And in a way she gave that to me,” Buck shrugs. “But when I saw her again, when she said Sam was trapped, I guess I just went back to my old ways. I reverted to my need to be _good_ , to do the right thing, and nothing you or Bobby said could guide me off that well-worn path.

“I guess sometimes I have trouble feeling like I’m enough,” Buck admits, “Because it’s never been true. So when Abby asked me to save him, to bring him back to her, I guess I thought that might appease those feelings. Maybe if I could save him, it would be enough.”

“She had no right to ask that of you,” Eddie murmurs, and his tone is clipped, his frustration bubbling to the surface, even as his thumb swipes over Buck’s knuckles in a soothing gesture. “She knew what it meant. She knew _you_. She knew she was asking you to do everything you could, even if you got hurt again, even if you _died_. And she had no right.”

“I wouldn’t be alive it wasn’t for her,” Buck argues, but his belly flares at how protective Eddie is of him. He wishes Abby had shown even an ounce of this when he had seen her. Eddie grunts in frustration, then stands, absently pacing around the living room. “And not just by making me want to be better. She once had to perform an emergency tracheotomy that saved my life. I owe her.”

Eddie stops, and his eyes settle like darts on Buck’s chest. Buck realizes that maybe Eddie hadn’t known about that particular incident, and he shrinks with the intensity of Eddie’s gaze.

“You don’t owe her a damn thing,” Eddie growls. “Not when she left, and not tonight. Love isn’t transactional Buck. I was _there_ , you know, in the train car with you. I saw you tallying all the things Sam was and you weren’t. And you know what? That’s fine, because there are a thousand things that even the scales. Like the fact you were willing to risk your life for the person that left you behind. I know what that feels like, the loss and the resentment, and you fought through it to do _your job_. You are so _good_ , Buck. You make _me_ better.”

Buck lets Eddie’s words settle over him, trying to let them sink into his skin where he can feel the truth in them. Eddie lets out a shaky breath, his voice cracking with emotion.

“I need that to penetrate your thick skull, okay? Because I don’t want to imagine my life without you. I tried once, didn’t enjoy it, and I refuse to do it again. I want to _build_ a life with you Buck, and I need to know you’re going to be around for it. I’m telling you that you are enough, and I need you to believe me. Do you?”

Buck feels unsettled and weak, part of him still protecting himself from the inevitable fall, but Eddie’s expression chips away at the barrier. Buck realizes that whether he believes it or not, Eddie is telling him the truth, as he knows it to be. Eddie must see the relief wash over his face because he offers his hand, and Buck takes it.

Eddie tugs him forward, dragging him up and against him, pressing them together into a hopeful kiss. Buck reacts slowly, but then his fingers clasp Eddie’s face in a silent prayer, allowing himself to _trust_ that Eddie means what he says. He unravels, an ache in his chest subsiding for the first time as Eddie’s pulls away from him, his breath still warm against Buck’s swollen lips.

“I love you, Evan Buckley. And if I have to remind you every day for a hundred years that you are enough, that you are _everything_ to me, I will. And you don’t have to say it back, because _god_ , you’ve had a hard day, but I want you to know. That I’m here. And I’m not going anywhere.”

Buck’s heart is so full that it settles like a weight against his ribs, and he can’t find the words to express what he feels in this moment, how _secure_ Eddie has made him with just those words. So he doesn’t try. Instead his mouth presses silently against Eddie’s and he’s telling him in the best way he knows how. His fingertips comb through Eddie’s hair and Eddie’s thumbs sweep gentle circles against his lower back, pulling them together until they are flush.

Buck wants to be closer, wants to feel every part of him from the inside out, so he walks Eddie backward without breaking their kiss, except to discard their clothing along the way. Eddie guides them through the doorway of his bedroom, leaning against the threshold to shuck his pant leg from his ankle, before pushing Buck onto the bed.

Eddie stands there for a moment, as Buck leans up on his elbows, and they watch each other, like they’re seeing each other for the first time. Buck smiles nervously, but Eddie is serious, his dark eyes full of answers to questions Buck hasn’t asked yet, and then he drops his knee onto the bed between Buck’s thighs, lowering himself over him.

“I _need_ you,” Buck admits, and his voice shakes. It’s his first admission, but it won’t be his last. Eddie’s breath ghosts over him as he leaves a path of kisses from his sternum to his pulse point.

Gently, he takes Buck’s earlobe into his mouth, sliding his teeth along the soft skin, before answering, “You _have_ me, Buck.”

Buck feels a chill go up his spine, and his back arcs, his body searching for more points of contact between them. He finds them, his skin burning with each touch as they navigate each other. He focuses on each point of contact: Eddie’s teeth against his throat, Buck’s fingers against his shoulders, the obvious hard length between his legs.

He guides Eddie back to his mouth, longing for the feeling of his lips, and Eddie concedes, sliding their lips together as Buck arcs up into him again. This time he can feel Eddie’s length sliding against his own, and soon they are moving in sync, panting into this kiss, trying to maintain this point of contact as they thrust desperately against each other.

Buck reaches for Eddie’s ass, syncopating the rhythm with each thrust, his hands spread wide and holding tight. Eddie’s moans pitch upward, and Buck can feel his need, dragging back from the kiss so he can watch him, watch the grateful look on his face as he comes. His hips jerks with his release, and Buck watches him fall apart, his own desire mounting but unable to crest.

Eddie smiles, taking over, the pitch of his hips deepening so the pressure is stronger, and his hands bracket Buck’s face, his next words a command, “Come for me, _mi amor_.”

Buck arches under him, desperate for grounding as he gives in, his whole body shaking with the effort. And Eddie is there, holding him, a steady force as he crumbles. His lips find Eddie’s and he can taste the salt of his own tears as Eddie kisses him.

“I love you,” Buck whimpers, and it’s so much easier than he’d imagined. It doesn’t feel momentous, just the culmination of a million moments where he’d felt it and couldn’t find the words. He repeats, stronger, more assured, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Eddie reminds him, dropping lazy kisses against his collar bone before rolling onto his side. He leans on his elbow, watching as Buck _feels_ everything he’d been holding back. He laughs, wiping tears from his eyes, his body still recovering from orgasm, and Eddie just watches amused as he feels it all. “Are you okay?”

“I’m incredible,” Buck admits in a huff, his emotions starting to settle. He turns his head finally, his eyes finding Eddie’s and he can’t help it, so he says it again. “I love you.”

“Yeah?” Eddie asks, and then he reaches out to caress Buck’s face, his thumb grazing Buck’s lower lip, and then he kisses him again. “Good. Get used to it.”

Eddie seems to sense the exhaustion that has set into Buck’s limbs, the weight of his arms sinking into the bed, and he drags the covers over them, determining without words that Buck can stay the night. Even before all this happened, Buck knew he would sleep better knowing that Eddie was near, had determined that even the couch would provide more security for him than his own bed, but with Eddie’s fingers drawing absentminded shapes over his skin, he sleeps, deeper than he ever has before.

* * *

Buck wakes up first, surprised that he feels well rested. The night before had been exhausting, and usually his muscles would be sore and his head cloudy. A tough rescue was like a bad hangover. But instead he turns into the heat next to him, finding the solid form of Eddie’s body, and curling into it, noticing how well he fits.

Eddie isn’t awake, but soon sleepily curls into him, pressing his lips to his forehead and dragging Buck against him.

“No regrets then?” Buck offers, with the confidence of a man that already knows the answer. He feels Eddie’s lips curl up into a smile against his skin.

“Not one.”

“Do you know when Chris is getting dropped off? Maybe I should get out of here,” Buck offers, but his fingers cling to Eddie’s biceps, and Eddie doesn’t move to extricate himself.

“You got somewhere to be?” Eddie asks, and he tries to sound casual, but Buck can tell he’s making a point. His muscles flex as his arms pull Buck in closer, the rise and fall of their breath syncing.

“I just thought,” Buck questions. “I mean, it took you months to tell him about Shannon. I figured you’d want a little time before he knows…”

“Buck,” Eddie answers, patiently, hooking a finger under his chin so Buck will look him in the eyes. “That’s because I couldn’t be sure she wouldn’t leave again. I know you aren’t going anywhere. And neither are we.”

And, _god-damn it_ , Buck is tearing up again. Because Eddie had promised himself last night, had told him he would never leave, but the promise of _them_ , of a _family_ , hits him in a place that he didn’t realize was hurting.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Eddie soothes, wiping the tears off his cheeks with the pads of his thumbs, “Keep up with the water works and he’s going to wonder what I did to you. Don’t want to get me in trouble, do you?”

“You trust me,” Buck offers, by way of an explanation. It’s not much, but they’re the only words he can gather through the emotions that are surging through him.

Eddie chuckles, “You nearly died saving my kid from a tsunami. And that was after you helped me dismantle a live grenade. I think we’ve gone through enough trust exercises at this point.”

“But that was you trusting me to not get you killed,” Buck explains, and the tears stop falling as he realizes the source. “This is you trusting me with your life. And that’s so much _more_.”

“Of course,” Eddie declares, nuzzling their noses together. “Because I love you. And what’s the point of any of it if I don’t share my life with you.”

“I’ll try to make it a long one,” Buck assures him, pressing his palm to Eddie’s cheek and searching his eyes for understanding, “God, I love you. I love _both_ of you. And I will do everything in my power to make it home to you.”

“I would offer you a key or something, but you already have one,” Eddie chuckles, then kisses him again, slowly, before punctuating with another, shorter. “Thank you. I would be a hypocrite if I said you weren’t allowed to take risks. I’m still not sorry I cut the cord to save that kid from that well. But the next time you decide to risk your life, it better be worth it, because you’re risking mine too.”

“And do you know why I can do that? Push a rescue to the edge and still come back?” Buck asks him, his fingertips slotting between Eddie’s ribs. “Because I know you’re right beside me. Last night, I knew you were angry with me, but I knew you’d still have my back. And we’ve saved so many lives because of that Eddie.”

“We do make a great team,” Eddie shrugs. “I hope Bobby remembers that when we tell him. I know there are forms we have to fill out. But I want to. I want people to know, and I want it to be above reproach, because there’s no going back for me.”

“You really mean that, don’t you?” Buck asks, and his smile spreads across his whole face. It’s contagious, and Eddie chuckles at the dopey, lovestruck grin on Buck’s face, not realizing that he is mirroring the same expression. “Shit, I think you’re it for me too.”

“Yeah?” his lips part into a smile, then Buck is covering his mouth with his own, pouring meaning into every shift of their lips, every slide of his tongue against Eddie’s teeth. His body arcs against Eddie’s chest, and he realizes that the feeling he finds here, the feeling that Eddie provides him, is _home_. “Get used to it,” Eddie teases, catching his breath, and Buck wills himself to do exactly that.


End file.
